Brain Teasers and Troubles
by StarInk10
Summary: When Kowalski is mysteriously striken with amnesia, he is unknowingly taken from the zoo by a boy named Ronald, the same from the episode "Field-Tripped". The two become close while Kowalski's team despretely tries to return their comrade home.
1. Chapter 1

It was a beautiful day at New York City's Central Park Zoo. The sun was shining, the alligator was singing, the lemurs were jumping on their air bounce, and inside the penguins' headquarters, faint whiffs of smoke squeezed beneath the thin line between the laboratory door and its threshold, curling lightly as it floated in the air. Neither its scent nor its color was bold enough to catch the attention of three penguins sitting around a table, straight-backed and fully immersed in a made-up card game.

"Let's see…" pondered Private, the youngest and shortest penguin of the group. He paused to consider each of the cards he held in his wing, trying to determine his next move.

"I'll bet… the Two of Hearts against your King of Spades, Skippah," he announced with a British accent, looking expectedly at the penguin sitting across from him.

Although 'Skippah' wasn't his real name, Skipper had grown accustomed and rather fond of Private's slight mispronunciation, and acknowledged it all the same.

"That's a bold wager, young Private," the leader of the group said with a wise-cracking smirk. "But I think you forgot that a measly little two doesn't stand a chance against the king."

Private immediately placed his wings to his beak, unable to silence his suppressed giggles.

"That sounds like something Julien would say," Private admitted when Skipper gave him a confused look.

Skipper's brows furrowed. Julien was a ring-tailed lemur and the self-proclaimed king of the Central Park Zoo. He was a party animal in every sense of the word, blasting obnoxious music for hours on end as the penguins desperately tried to sleep, and acting as though he was superior to everyone else. To Skipper, Julien was an unbearable nuisance, being responsible for many of the zoo's problems which was often a result of his short-sighted and selfish ways. Fixing the "king's" mistakes was as much of a ritual as Skipper's morning fish coffee.

Any resemblance made between Julien and himself then, was understandably resented, but Skipper chose to dismiss Private's comment, knowing he meant no harm…The young penguin never did.

"I don't care if I sound like a gargling platypus," Skipper retaliated, his smile telling a relieved Private that he had taken no offense to the rookie's comment. "Why would you think the King of Spades could be defeated by a weakling like the Two of Hearts?"

"Because it has…heart?" Private offered hopefully.

The third penguin at the table, who had ruffled tufts of small feathers sticking out on his head, as well as a red, thin, jagged scar running through his beak, gave a grunt of distaste.

"Quarantine that lovey-dovey talk Private," Skipper ordered. "You know how Rico gets when he hears that mush."

Rico groaned and clutched his stomach to voice his discomfort.

"Sorry Rico," Private apologized, looking on worriedly as the sound of Rico's moans became louder. "Are you okay?"

Rico suddenly began gagging, opening his beak as wide as possible. For one crazy moment, Private and Skipper thought he was going to spew fish chunks, but instead, the now grinning penguin coughed out a card and slammed it triumphantly on the table's surface.

"Aha!" Rico shouted.

"A baseball card!" Skipper exclaimed as he looked at the card in awe. "Rico, you madman!"

Rico laughed in mock evil fashion, daring his two comrades to challenge him.

"Don't worry Skippah. I know just the card to defeat it!" Private proclaimed bravely. Lifting up his left foot, he revealed a card sticking to its bottom, a blue diamond design decorating its backside. The other two watched in excited anticipation as Private raised the card above his head, his face firm and determined.

"Prepare to meet…Self-Respectra!"

Private flipped the card over and placed it gently on the table. Skipper and Rico leaned forward to get a better look, gazing at the card in disbelief and exasperation. It was a picture card, one that illustrated a green unicorn handing out ice cream to bunny rabbits. This _abomination_ belonged to a franchise known as the Loonacorns, a series of television shows and merchandise that Private adored to the extent of a slightly unhealthy obsession.

This time, Rico really did throw- up, though thankfully he had made it to the garbage can before succumbing to his nausea. While Rico's horrified whimpers echoed in the can, Skipper had rested his forehead on the table, the rocky gray color consuming his vision and thankfully preventing him from looking at Private.

"Private? Just…why?"

"The power of imagination can defeat all odds," Private explained proudly. "Plus, it makes for an excellent distraction."

Skipper's head popped up at this, his eyes widening as Private quickly took Rico's baseball card off the table and hid it underneath the vomiting penguin's chair. Skipper slowly shook his head in amazement, unable to prevent the proud smile that appeared on his face while Private shrugged timidly and watched Rico with concern.

"I didn't want him to get sick though," Private admitted shamefully. "I'd better apologize."

Skipper didn't stop him, agreeing that an apology was indeed in order, but also knowing Rico never held a grudge and would take it in stride. Perhaps he would understand what Private's actions ultimately meant, and would feel the same way as Skipper did at that moment:

Private had taken advantage of his opponent's weakness, and used the distraction to eliminate the chief threat in one silent swipe of his flipper. Their game didn't have any rules, as they would forget the ones they made up, so he had also taken advantage of that disorderly circumstance, a necessary act in real life-or-death situations.

The boy was learning.

Skipper watched as Private put his wing on Rico's back, guiding him to the metal rungs of the ladder that led to the outside world, saying something about fresh air. The leader beamed when he saw Rico give the young penguin a small, reassuring smile, not looking angry in the slightest. In fact, his eyes contained a gleam that strangely resembled pride as he watched Private ramble and stutter through his apologies.

It was a small step, but as far as Skipper was concerned, this not only showed Private's progress, but confirmed his own leadership skills, which, he smugly believed, was top notch and better than ever.

That was when he noticed the smoke.

The metal cylinders of the machine pumped harder, causing the soundless accordions to stretch up and down, up and down in an increasingly rapid rhythm. Plastic see-through wires connected the used instruments to a strong, fire-proof orb, a trapezoid platform rooted beneath so that it stayed in place. The platform also offered the only opening for some highly intelligent penguin to, oh I don't know, perhaps insert the end of a gas lighter into?

Gripping the igniter firmly and taking a deep breath, the tall and skinny penguin pressed the trigger.

Orange flames were instantly propelled into the orb, encircling the interior until the inside was completely consumed by a roaring inferno.

"C'mon…_c'mon_…," the penguin mumbled, the light of the flame reflected on his protective goggles as he stared intently at the invention.

In moments, the tips of the flame became tinged with blue.

"That's it!" the penguin cheered. "Sci-ence, Koomby-yay!"

His smile faltered when the blue color disappeared as quickly as it had come, the fire beginning to lose momentum and shrinking in size.

"No, no,no,no," the penguin pleaded, checking the wires to see that the mechanisms and doo-dads were still connected. For a moment, he was at a complete loss, not knowing what was wrong. He gripped his head painfully and emitted a panicked whimper, then immediately slapped himself hard across the cheek.

"Get it together Kowalski!" the scientist commanded himself, grabbing a nearby wrench and twirling it in his fin. "This can still work!"

Kowalski approached the cylinders, finding solace in the _pocketa-pocketa_ sound it was emitting. After a quick scan of his invention, the scientist began rerouting wires and fiddling with the machine's bolts and knobs.

"Perhaps a few more adjustments will…there!" he exclaimed, tightening a screw until it moved no further. Rushing back to the orb, Kowalski again took the gas lighter and inserted the tip into the platform's opening, giving the trigger a few more clicks before the fading flames were rejuvenated with fresh power.

"C'mon baby…Daddy needs you to break the laws of thermodynamics!"

Nothing changed however, causing Kowalski to frown deeply, his arctic blue eyes regarding the orb with confusion. Then, after a quick glance at the lab door to make sure no one was watching, Kowalski spoke quietly to the ball of flame.

"I understand that breaking the law sounds like the wrong thing to do, but sometimes you just have to…"

He rolled the tips of his flippers in circles, unable to come up with a good reason.

"Okay, listen," he relented, bending down slightly and speaking in a secretive undertone. "If you do this, I'll give you a raise in your allowance. Just don't tell your mother," he whispered loudly.

At this, a blue light suddenly appeared at the core of the blaze, its color expanding and overwhelming the orange and red of the transforming fire. In a matter of seconds, the orb was filled with sapphire flames, flecked with purple and white.

"Meta-arch!" Kowalski shouted, pumping his fin in triumph. "I did it! I have invented the world's first self-sufficient generator! I finally did it!"

He jumped up and down about the lab in giant skips, whooping and dancing in delight and performing cartwheels across the length of the room. After a few high backward flips, he placed his wings on the side of his head to quell his excitement, panting and laughing with the effort.

"This is incredible," he said in an awe-struck tone, his eyes wide and bright. "Think of all the good this can do for the world. Think of the gloating rights!" he said even louder, seeming more thrilled at the prospect of being able to brag instead of helping the planet.

Kowalski was so absorbed in the joy of his success that he failed to notice the racing _whirs_ of the machine behind him, as well as the ominous glow the flames emitted with growing intensity.

At the very moment Skipper saw the odorless smoke, Kowalski noticed the thick cloud wrapping around his feet and turned toward his invention.

_**BOOM!**_

The lab door broke off its hinges and flew towards Skipper, Private and Rico. All three of them ducked automatically, not having been close enough to the lab to render this defense as worthless. The former door slammed against the wall behind them with tremendous force, falling over and revealing newly-formed cracks in the concrete wall.

Skipper instantly got back on his feet, bracing himself for a fight as he narrowed his eyes to see through the smoke, searching for the enemy. Rico and Private were shakier in their rebound, but they mimicked Skipper and assumed their battle stances, their composure becoming more intimating as they saw someone appear.

The smoke prevented them from seeing the features of their unknown foe, cloaking the approaching figure as if he were a solid shadow. Skipper nodded at Rico, who coughed up a rocket launcher in response and aimed it at the stranger.

The figure suddenly halted and, to the others surprise, sighed loudly in exasperation before succumbing to a coughing fit.

"Identify yourself!" Skipper demanded.

The shadow began walking toward them again, his arms raising in surrender as he recovered enough strength to speak.

"I don't need to see you guys to know that Rico is pointing a rocket launcher at me, Skipper wants to try his new bone- breaking karate move, and Private is checking to see that his stuffed unicorn is safe."

Rico and Skipper looked toward Private, whose eyes were fixed anxiously on the toy lying underneath his bed blanket. He tried looking ferocious again when he saw the other two staring at him.

"Is that you Kowalski?" asked Skipper suspiciously, turning his attention back to the lab entrance.

Sure enough, the scientist finally emerged from the smoke, swooning drunkenly in a daze while his face gave an occasional twitch of pain. Most of his feathers had been coated with smoke and soot, the white of his chest and face now a dark grey. Taking a hold of the door frame for support, Kowalski lifted his head and smiled feebly at his leader.

"M-maybe I should have used trumpets instead of accordions, huh?"

"Maybe you should have used some common sense instead of blowing yourself up," Skipper retorted angrily, crossing his flippers as Rico lowered his weapon and Private's shoulders slumped in relief.

"I know, I know," Kowalski shook his head in despair. "I don't understand it…I've worked on this for months until I was absolutely certain I had perfected its design; that its performance would be flawless! I thought it was all meta-arch before—"

"Meta-what?" questioned Skipper.

"Meta-arch," Kowalski replied, releasing his grip on the doorframe. "It's a combination of Greek prefix and suffix that I meshed together just a few minutes ago."

"Wycome?" asked Rico.

"Uh…"

Kowalski hesitated then, looking at his comrades rather sheepishly.

"Well, not many people can say they've invented a self-sufficient power generator and a new word at the same time. I thought that seemed pretty cool," Kowalski shrugged, a tinge of embarrassment lacing his smile.

Skipper pinched his beak in exasperation, shaking his head slightly in an effort to remain calm. "I'd tell you to stick to the science-inventing Kowalski, but it almost blew our heads off."

Kowalski rubbed the length of his left wing, adopting a tone of uncomfortable defense.

"I admit the door was blown off its hinges with considerable thrust, but it didn't have the proper momentum or angle to actually decapitate you."

The three penguins glared at him disapprovingly. Kowalski's head drooped slightly as he emitted a defeated sigh.

"I'll go get the solar-powered broom…" he said gloomily, retreating back into his lab. The three watched him disappear into the haze until Private voiced a sudden thought.

" 'Solar-powered?' ", Private questioned, confusion clearly evident in his tone as he looked up at the ceiling. "How can it work though if the sun can't come through the roof-"

The last word barely escaped Private's beak before something flew out of the lab, soaring like a missile in a blur of brown and yellow. The object struck the fresh cracks in the wall before exploding in a burst of wood and straw. As the pieces landed on the broken door, a small fountain of water began to leak from the cracks, slopping onto the remains of Kowalski's solar powered broom.

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**A/N: ** **I know this chapter doesn't really advance the plot, but I wanted to establish the emotional environment so the transition doesn't seem rushed or out of place. Basically, Skipper hates it when his team is endangered, and becomes easily frustrated with Kowalski when his inventions puts them at risk, perceiving the creations as an unnecessary hazard. This in turn makes Kowalski feel underappreciated and desperate to prove his worth, and becomes isolated from the team as a result of spending hours in the lab. **

**I don't know if this circumstance actually exists in the show as it is a relatively light-hearted cartoon, but I can't help but notice that Skipper doesn't seem as close to Kowalski as he is to the rest of his comrades. It could be because of the reason described above, or that Kowalski can be rather smug about his intelligence. It could even be because Kowalski is second-in-command, and Skipper offers less support so that if the scientist ever is made leader, he'll be able to stand on his own two feet. **

**Whatever the reason, I would like to see their bond of friendship become visibly stronger, and I sincerely hope this story can accomplish that. **

**To that effect, I also hope that the odorless smoke and Skipper's delay in noticing it could be interpreted as foreshadowing. **

**As for "Meta-arch", in Greek **_**meta**_** can mean beyond, and **_**arch**_** means one who rules…Basically, Kowalski is saying he rocks so hard lol. **

**I'm not sure when I'll be able to update again as I am overwhelmed with homework at the moment, so your patience would be greatly appreciated.**

**Until then, reviews and helpful criticism are welcome; flames are not. Feel free to express your thoughts on the Skipper-Kowalski dynamic; it would be fun to hear your ideas on the matter :) **

**I do not own The Penguins of Madagascar, and I'm pretty sure the "pocketa-pocketa" is borrowed from "The Secret Life of Walter Mitty" by James Thurber. Gotta give credit where credit is due lol. **


	2. Chapter 2

If Skipper was to describe the next few days, it would be bluntly expressed as exploding death traps and profuse apologies, followed by sushi for dinner and his mounting frustration toward his second-in-command.

Having wanted to make amends for his failed generator and psychotic broom, Kowalski decided…to make even more inventions. The very thought of it alone had given the leader a massive headache (or maybe that was due to the toxic fumes pouring out of the lab three nights ago). Though he was well aware that his lieutenant was the smartest of his team (or at least the one who possessed the most random facts), Skipper was certain that in this case, Kowalski's logic had everything but, and the scientist was proving him right with the succession of disasters that occurred.

After letting the smoke clear out of the lab, Kowalski immediately set to work, returning to the main room a day later to show them "The Field-Shield", an invisible barrier powered by an artificial intelligence mechanism that would repel anything that it conceived as a threat. Although Skipper was uneasy with the idea of a machine being in control of the headquarters defense, he couldn't help but feel awed by the sight of the shield enveloping their habitat before vanishing before his eyes. He also couldn't help but burst out laughing when Ringtail flew halfway across the zoo after attempting to climb over the penguin's fence, wanting to ask if he could borrow their television forever. As he had clutched his stomach in the mist of his hard laughter, Skipper saw his team in the corner of his tearing eye, laughing at his hysterics. Kowalski had been chuckling quietly, his wings connected loosely behind his back, his expression containing more relief than amusement.

Their happiness was short-lived however when the human spectators came to watch them perform. After acting out their "cute and cuddly" routine, the delighted watchers threw fish into their habitat as a show of reward and thanks. Skipper became suspicious when he noticed how the fish were thrown in high arcs before strangely falling short of the base, hitting the water with a meager "plop" before reemerging and floating idly on the surface. Either those fish were really heavy, he thought, or the human's had terrible aim and weak arms. He was settling on the latter conclusion when Rico flew into him, his body hitting Skipper's midsection with tremendous force. Skipper was knocked off his feet, teetering on the edge of unconsciousness when his back abruptly struck something hard. He felt himself becoming airborne again before falling to the center stage, succumbing to a comfortable but unwilling oblivion as he just began to realize that he was in pain.

When he finally came to, his team was running around in panicked circles, screaming that they were going to die. They were relieved when they saw Skipper get to his feet, but he couldn't help but observe the poorly hidden expression of nervousness and shame that appeared on Kowalski's face. Tentatively, the scientist stepped forward to explain the situation.

Apparently the Field-Shield's artificial intelligence had activated on its own accord, going on alert when it detected the penguins' pratfalls. Unaware that it was all for show, the machine provided a concentrated bubble of protection around the concrete base, increasing its power when it sensed that something was being thrown at the mammals. After the humans departed, Rico had run eagerly forward to retrieve the fish, only for the shield to repel him back into Skipper. Skipper himself was then forced away by the shield's energy when his back struck it, but Private and Kowalski managed to catch him in midair before he could hit the force-field again.

Kowalski sighed then, and Skipper knew the worst was still to come.

"We tried going downstairs to turn off the machine, but…well…"

Kowalski lifted up the fish food bowl covering their secret residence, and began lowering his fin carefully toward the entrance hole. Skipper didn't see what the problem was until something seemed to ripple under the tip of Kowalski's wing, as if he was touching the placid face of a small lake. For a moment, Skipper thought Kowalski's flipper would be submerged in the realm of apparent invisibility, but as Kowalski applied more pressure to the surface, his wing became outlined with an electric blue and would go no deeper.

"If I were to push any harder, it would throw me back," Kowalski explained, rising to his feet.

"How in the Seaworld did this happen, Kowalski?" Skipper said aghast.

"Uh, apparently the artificial intelligence has deemed us as a danger to ourselves, and since its primary objective is to protect us…" Kowalski took a deep breath and said very hurriedly. "It'slockedusoutofour ."

"What about the rabid orange jackalope?" Skipper asked confusedly.

"We're locked out of our home, Skippah," Private elaborated.

"Yeah, I know," Skipper replied. "I was asking whether you got in touch with the rabid orange jackalope, see if he could help us out."

The three other penguins exchanged baffled looks before Kowalski said, "…We couldn't contact him Skipper. He's either retired, extinct, or doesn't exist."

Skipper rolled his eyes at his team's naivety. That was exactly what the jackalope _wanted_ them to think, but that was a story for another day.

In the end, they used the very little amount of pool water they had access to (the Field-Shield hadn't extended far in order to preserve power) and were forced to create holes at the bottom. Fortunately, the zoo had just closed for the evening and tomorrow, Sunday, was a day off, so no humans would catch them in the act. Of course, the surrounding neighbors were used to hearing Rico's maniacal laughter and the following sound of a giant explosion. However, Skipper noticed that the lemurs in the habitat across from them hadn't even twitched their ears to the loud blast, and continued playing their board game without sparing the penguins a glance. Skipper deduced that the shield probably blocked out sound too, making it impossible to call for help. After all, not even Julien was _that_ oblivious.

After the water was drained, they had to dig through the pool floor and tunnel underneath their base, then work their way up and emerge on the inside. Although having a trigger-happy weapons expert like Rico was certainly an advantage, they still had to tread cautiously so as not to cause a cave-in, and their energy was starting to run low after not having eaten all day. They were well into Sunday by the time they accomplished their goal, exhausted and light-headed, shaking from lack of food. It only surprised Skipper slightly though when Rico summoned the energy to retch up a crow bar and beat the Field-Shield's intelligence and power source until it was reduced to a fine powder, all accomplished with alarming viciousness. Skipper didn't know that what Rico did was even possible, but he supposed the penguin with an arsenal stored in his stomach had taken the deprivation of fish as a personal offense.

With a slight smirk, Skipper turned to Kowalski to see his reaction to the peculiar demise of his invention. Beating a dense metal machine with a crowbar until it turned to dust would agitate the scientist to no end, as it defied everything that was considered to be reality. Skipper would never know for certain, however; the penguin was nowhere in the main room. The leader immediately headed toward the lab (having to step over Private, who had collapsed from fatigue and had no intention of rising), opening the newly installed door quietly to see Kowalski's back turned to him.

He was covering his face with his wings, groaning in dismay and trembling slightly. He stood before the blueprint of his former Field-Shield, taped to the wall and now covered with a giant red X.

Skipper was too tired to be angry or offer comfort (though he was disturbed by the sudden thought that Kowalski didn't deserve comfort…Had to have been from the day and a half without food), so he silently closed the lab door and fell asleep, right then and there, laying on the floor by Private's side and snoring loudly.

However, his irritation returned the next day and hadn't subsided, not even with food or rest. The negative feeling only grew when it turned out the Field-Shield was a kindergartener's warm-up compared to the following inventions.

The next time Kowalski reemerged from his lab, he was followed by a child-sized human robot. He explained that it could help them interact more efficiently with the humans, better then their trench coat and fedora disguise ever could. He also pointedly showed them a remote that they could control the robot with, so it was incapable of acting on its own free will.

"If that's the case Kowalski," Skipper said later that evening, shaking with anger. "Why did it accuse us of being rabid orange jackalopes and tie us to a rocket aimed for the sun?"

"Because…it was an American robot?" Kowalski offered sheepishly, his face flushed with embarrassment.

When the team escaped from their death sentence to the sun, Kowalski, in his haste to change the rocket's coordinates as its impending launch could not be stopped, accidently sent it off earlier. Private and Skipper managed to roll the robot beneath the rocket's nozzle, exposing it to the scorching flames, while Rico attached a timed bomb to the rocket's body. It had managed to clear the Earth's atmosphere, but the bomb obliterated the rocket before it could reach the sun.

The robot had been destroyed, but apparently not Kowalski's stubborn determination to succeed, or Skipper's anger at Kowalski's stubborn determination to succeed. Even Rico and Private were becoming irritated with Kowalski and his inventions at this point, visibly cringing when they saw him enter the lab again. They tried different approaches to convince him to stop: Private gently hinted to the scientist that he needed rest, claiming the break would help clear his mind and restore his energy. Rico threatened to bash Kowalski's head in with a hammer. Kowalski would hear none of it though and continued his work, much to the others chagrin. They were all exhausted by the relentless assembly line of backfiring gadgets, and it had only been four days.

Friday was the generator, Saturday and Sunday the Field-Shield, Monday the robot.

Tuesday brought a virtual reality helmet, specifically designed with Private in mind so he could interact with the characters from the Loonacorn Show. Eventually, Private could no longer distinguish fiction from reality, seeing the Loonacorns round the zoos garbage cans, exposing sharp fangs and glowing red eyes as their heads spun in circles, laughing maliciously at Private's screams of terror and the befuddled looks he garnered from his teammates.

Wednesday was a giant fan placed in the testing area of their base, its face curiously directed toward the ceiling. Kowalski said it would simulate flying with their jet packs but in a safer environment, so that they could practice formations and be better prepared when the battle was in the sky. Rico tried first, and was initially exhilarated as the fan's winds raised him into the air. About a minute later, the fan malfunctioned and the wind was reversed, pulling a struggling Rico toward its sharp rotating blades, managing to chop off some chest feathers before he was rescued. It didn't help that it was a hot day either; when Rico went outside to put some distance between him and the machine, Marlene the Otter had appeared to show the penguins a hand held fan she found in the zoo's lost and found bin. Rico abruptly fainted at the sight of it and fell into the pool water, a bewildered Marlene diving in to retrieve him moments later.

Thursday was…too horrible to even describe.

Friday was diamond day and the final straw.

"Okay," Kowalski said excitedly, addressing his inattentive audience as they quietly played cards. "I've successfully melded the Argyle, Paragon and Carbonado diamonds, but have made adjustments to its density so this can work. You see, I've recreated a smaller version of the Petawatt Laser, and have created a container that can capture the infrared laser's pulse and prevent it from disappearing. Don't worry though; the container is equipped with a solid shield that is only deactivated with this remote. I suppose it contradicts the standard procedure of lighting miscellanea, since turning it off simultaneously turns it on, in a sense…Anyway," he said, his voice rising in anticipation. "All I have to do now is insert the pulse into the diamond, and then all evil shall tremble before the might of The Lamplifier!"

None of the penguins responded; they weren't even looking at him.

"What do you think?" Kowalski persisted in sincere interest. Skipper relented with a rather cold response.

"A diamond, Kowalski?" Skipper said in a flat monotone, not bothering to look up at the scientist as he stared at his cards. "Really?"

"Why not?" Kowalski said lightly. "Who said a diamond was only a girl's best friend?"

"All the men in the universe," Skipper answered shortly, placing a card face down.

He could sense Kowalski's eyes trained on him then, though with what kind of emotion he didn't know. There was silence for a little while after, but Skipper knew he hadn't retreated to his lab just yet.

"H-how's the hallucinations, Private? Have they gone away?" Kowalski finally spoke, trying to change the subject. Skipper detected a kind of wavering defeat in his voice.

"Um…"

Private glanced over his shoulder.

"Do you see a purple unicorn floating overhead with lollipops and a chain saw?"

"Uhhh, no."

"Well, there you go then," Private sighed miserably, turning his attention back to his cards.

Out of the corner of his eye, Skipper saw Kowalski's shoulders slump, nodding his head while adverting his gaze.

"Okay," he said quietly. In no time at all, he was back in the lab, closing door smoothly behind him.

The other's lifted their heads when they heard it close, staring in its direction with looks of pitying exasperation. Private then placed his head in his wings, resting them on the table.

"Private?" Skipper asked, taking notice of the youth's behavior. For someone seeing killer unicorns, Skipper was amazed by how well Private was managing, but he realized it could only be endured for so long; the evil and fluffiness would be too much for anyone to bear.

Private head popped up, looking tired but sure.

"I'll be right back."

Private hopped off his seat, heading right for the laboratory and entering swiftly. Skipper heard Private's tentative "K'walski?" before the door cut off the remainder of the sentence when it shut with a loud click.

As always, Private's heart had won out.

Rico placed his cards down, not caring if they were seen or not.

"Ablier bloog jhuh?" Rico asked Skipper with uncertainty.

"Yeah, I hate it too," Skipper admitted, dropping his entire hand so that they scattered sloppily about the table. "But he's gotta see this from our point of view. I just don't get why he puts all of us through this madness, and that includes himself. Doesn't he care if one of us gets hur—"

"_AAAAUUUGGGGHHHH!_"

The sound of Private's scream penetrated through the lab door, its cry pained and horrified.

"Private!" Skipper jumped out of his seat and ran toward the door. Rico was right behind him, a flamethrower pressed against his chest as he growled in preparation for an attack. Without a moment's pause, they wretched the door open and dashed into the lab, almost immediately crashing into Private and knocking him to the ground. A groaning Private settled before a startled Kowalski, who hadn't been far behind when the former had run into the others.

"Private!" Skipper exclaimed in relief, seeing that his soldier was physically unscathed.

"W-who's there?" Private asked nervously, looking everywhere but at Skipper and Rico.

"Gah, nobody panic!"

Kowalski helped Private to his feet, his face full of anxiety and concern as he brushed non-existing dust off the penguin.

"Just a minor setback, I'm sure the effects will wear off and you'll be back to normal in no time Private."

"Y-you're sure K'walski?" Private quaked. Tears were running from his eyes in quick succession, alarming both Rico and Skipper.

"Situguh eh blooblah deronba?" Rico interrogated.

"Nothing!" Kowalski insisted, though the guilt in his voice suggested otherwise.

"I'm positive," Kowalski returned to addressing Private. "If worst comes to worst, I have a blueprint for electric eyes that can be surgically implanted if-"

Private gasped.

"But we won't need them!" Kowalski quickly changed tactics. "And even if you did… they can shoot laser beams," he said weakly.

Private trembled, sniffing loudly as tears continued to run down his cheeks. Kowalski rested his fin on the youth's shoulder.

"I'm so sorry Private," he said miserably. "I promise that everything will be o-"

Skipper marched forward and shoved Kowalski away from Private, ignoring the look of surprise and remorse that appeared on the scientist's face. Skipper gently took hold of Private's head and lifted it, looking straight into his eyes.

Only there weren't really any eyes to speak of.

His eyeballs were almost entirely white, with the exception of the irises, which were now a very pale blue. Rico approached Skipper's side, waving his wing in front of Private's face. He didn't react at all.

"Do you see anything changing, K'walski?" the blinded penguin asked hopefully.

Skipper and Rico were too shocked to let him know it was them. The following silence caused the little smile that appeared on Private's face to disappear.

"I know it looks bad," Kowalski started, stepping closer to his team. "But I assure you it's only tem—"

Skipper grabbed Kowalski's wing with a merciless grip, pulling him out of the lab into the main room before slamming him against the wall.

"What… did you do?" Skipper quietly seethed, pushing the penguin hard against the wall to prevent escape. He needn't have worried; Kowalski was scared stiff.

"I…" Kowalski began.

Skipper jerked him forward and slammed him against the wall again, harder and with more hatred.

"What did you do to him Kowalski!"

Kowalski swallowed, his body shaking with pain and trepidation.

"Private was exposed to the light without any eye protection."

And there it was. Another one of Kowalski's stupid inventions hurting his teammates, though this time the damage seemed permanent.

"Then why…did you turn it on when he was in the room?" Skipper said with narrowed eyes.

"I didn't know he was there."

"He called out your _name_…" he said in a grinding tone, as if it took severe effort for him to sound out a coherent word.

"I didn't hear him. I…I was so focused on finishing that I just zoned everything else out."

This excuse only enraged Skipper more.

"_Private isn't an 'everything else' Kowalski!_" Skipper shouted. "_None of us are! _"

Kowalski's eyes widened, looking hurt and taken aback by Skipper's accusation.

"You…You honestly don't think I—"

"I do," Skipper cut him off. "I finally do, _lieutenant._"

Not once in their time as comrades had Skipper addressed Kowalski so formally, nor had he ever spoken to him with the steel cold tone in which it was said. Kowalski looked as if something had tightly wound its large hands around his neck, choking him harshly but not enough to end it all, wanting to prolong his agony. Rico's head poked cautiously out of the lab to see what was happening, in case he needed to interfere. Private was holding Rico's fin for support, scared of what was to come.

"Kowalski, I want you to listen with your invisible ears wide open," Skipper scowled.

Kowalski's back pressed tighter against the wall, clearly nervous.

"Um, well, t-they're not exactly invisible, Skipper. We just have tiny holes underneath our feathers, one located on both sides of the head."

"So _that's _where they are," Private said out loud. "I told you they weren't on the bum, Rico," he added, turning his head to look behind him, to where he thought Rico was.

Skipper saw Rico shush Private before withdrawing his head into the lab. Skipper turned back to Kowalski with a glare dripping with warning. Kowalski's beak clamped up, knowing that Skipper was telling him not to interrupt again.

"Well then, I think those holes have run deep into your brain Kowalski. How else would you explain putting your inventions before your own brothers-in-arms?"

Kowalski's eyes widened, looking desperate to object, but he remained silent.

"_Good,"_ Skipper thought. _"All the easier to send the message home."_

"That may not be your intention, but when the means still reach the same ends, it doesn't matter," Skipper continued. "I know you love science, and big words like… "bathing", or… "_ loricatobaicalensis", _but when they do more harm than good, when they hurt my men, that's where I draw the line."

Skipper heard Kowalski gulp in fear, but the leader felt no guilt; he was doing this as much for Kowalski as he was for the others.

"Soldier, you are now forbidden from inventing any more machines or gadgets, not unless the situation desperately calls for it. Even then, you will not act until I've given you permission to do so. Is that clear?"

By the look of Kowalski's expression, the order must have translated to "I want you to tear out your own heart with a spoon without any anesthetics, and then feed it to Doris the Dolphin." Skipper couldn't care less what he thought, but as he did an about-face, he felt a growing ache in his stomach as he struggled to remain resolute in his decision.

"_Toughen up, you big hatchling,"_ Skipper silently berated himself._ You're the leader for crying out! This will work… This is for the best…"_

"Skipper?"

Skipper halted abruptly in his tracks, wanting to bite his tongue to prevent him from screaming, at whom and for what reason he didn't know. He only knew his throat had constricted when he heard Kowalski actually _beseeching_ him, his voice overflowing with torrents of sorrow and fear.

"Skip…Skipper," Kowalski pleaded. "It was an accident. I…I can do better. I- If you give me another chance, I _know_ I can do better…In fact, it would be for the best if-"

Skipper's head bowed slightly, the tips of his wings slowly folding into fists.

"Why don't… you_ ever_ _**listen**__!"_

What began as a dead calm finally succumbed to a furious roar, Skipper turning once more to face Kowalski.

"I don't _care_ what you think is best Kowalski! What you think is best helps no one on this team! Why do you always have to be so smug about your mine field of a brain, or the ticking bombs you call inventions? Like you know better than everyone else?"

Kowalski opened his beak to retaliate, but Skipper cut him off before he got the chance.

"As far as I'm concerned Kowalski, you make things for your own selfish ends. You never think of the team first. We don't need your exploding inventions, and we don't need you making them!"

His brows dropping lower and closer together, his eyes serious and livid, Skipper spoke the finishing blow in a low, threatening voice.

"If I catch you inventing anything else, if I so much as see you _looking_ at that lab without my permission… If you disobey my orders Kowalski, you're off the team, effective immediately. Understood?"

Kowalski merely stared at him, his expression numb.

"Is that understood?" Skipper repeated himself, raising his voice slightly.

"Perfectly," Kowalski's voice responded passively. The Kowalski that wasn't a reflex looked like he was going to cry.

Skipper nodded in acknowledgement, turning his back on Kowalski before speaking once more.

"I gave you plenty of chances Kowalski. I was a fool not to have done this sooner."

With that, Skipper walked away to ascend the rungs of the exit ladder, feeling as if he was breathing in outer space; he needed oxygen ASAP. The sun was warm and welcoming, its rays easing the chill that seemed to course through his body. After setting both his feet on the concrete island, Skipper made to pull the food bowl back into place to hide their secret, but surprised himself when he left a small portion of the entrance hole uncovered so he could peek into the world beneath him without being seen.

He didn't see Kowalski until he walked slowly into Skipper's line of vision, head lowered and still shaking. His flippers were curled into crunched-looking fists as he shook his head, tiny drops of water flying from his face. Then, taking a deep shuddering breath, he looked up at the ceiling, angry tears rolling from his eyes with a startling expression of self-loathing. He blinked rapidly and hastily wiped his tears away, making sure they were all gone before calling out, "Private? Rico?"

The two penguins cautiously emerged from the lab. Kowalski turned his head away until he heard the "click" of the lab door being closed behind them.

"Is Skippah gone?" Private asked uneasily, looking in the direction of the television.

"He's outside," Kowalski mumbled. "Rico? Do you have a washcloth and a cold bottle of water?"

Rico gave him a confused look before coughing up Kowalski's requests, the latter catching them as they fell.

"Thanks," Kowalski nodded. He opened the bottle and promptly dumped all its contents onto the washcloth, somehow managing not to lose a single drop of it to the floor.

"_The practiced hand of a chemist," _Skipper thought to himself.

Skipper 's attention was quickly drawn back to the others when he heard Kowalski gently request that Private lay down in Skipper's bunk, as it was the lowest to the ground and the easiest for the blind penguin to access. Skipper would understand, Kowalski said, when the young penguin hesitated. Private obliged, allowing Kowalski to guide him to bed. After sitting him down, Kowalski climbed up to Private's bunk to get his pillow, blanket and stuffed unicorn, then grabbed his own pillow and blanket as an afterthought. Rico, who had taken the washcloth from Kowalski so he could help Private, began to catch on to the scientist's intentions. He removed Skipper's pillow and blanket and placed it in the bunk above Private, while Kowalski asked Private to stand for a moment so he could make the bed. Skipper couldn't help but notice how he placed his own pillow on top of Private's, wondering if this was done for any specific reason. He got his answer when Private returned to the bunk and laid down, Kowalski placing the wash cloth over his eyes soon after. Private shivered slightly from the cold as the ends of the washcloth began to soak Kowalski's pillow.

"I doubt this will restore your vision post haste," Kowalski said quietly. "But it would be better if your eyes were covered until your sight returns. I want to be sure that no light can come through, as it could potentially damage and prolong the healing process. The cold will help soothe the pain," he added when he saw Private shiver again.

"So, I'll definitely be able to see again?" Private asked.

Kowalski nodded, then, remembering Private couldn't see, said, "Yes; I promise."

Private didn't answer, and instead held his stuffed toy closer to his chest. Rico regarded Private sadly, sighing at these awful series of events. Kowalski looked back and forth between his two comrades, his eyes momentarily flickering toward the fish bowl entrance before gazing at the ground. His mouth slightly opened as he raised his fin to rest against his forehead, looking as if he had just realized something terrible.

"Trust me," Kowalski said softly, his eyes pained and watering once more. "Please, trust me."

Skipper had heard enough. He silently covered the hole the rest of the way with the food bowl, then walked to the center of the island to look up into the sky.

"I'm sorry Kowalski…We can't trust you," Skipper said in a distant voice. "We can't trust someone who doesn't trust himself."

.

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**A/N: That mass of letters spoken by Kowalski earlier in the chapter translates to a rushed "It's locked us out of our headquarters and isolated us on this tiny island of rock without any food or other necessities to sustain us." **

**A Jackalope is a mythical animal that has the body of a rabbit and the antlers of a deer or the horns of an antelope.**

_** loricatobaicalensis **_**is a kind of amphipod. The name was eventually nullified, but Kowalski continues to find pleasure in pronouncing it. **

**The Petawatt Laser is capable of producing a pulse that is brighter than sunlight on the surface of the sun, but only lasts a tenth of a trillionth of a second. **

**I would like to take a moment to say how happy I am that such a thing as creative license exists; having a science-stunted brain, I couldn't tell you if some of these inventions, components, or outcomes are even close to crossing the border of possibility. Probably not lol. **

**Thank you all for your kind comments and patience; both are greatly appreciated. **

**Reviews and helpful criticism are welcome; flames are not. **


	3. Chapter 3

Private's sight returned three days later. The moment he had woken up that morning to see color surrounding him, _actual _color, his shout of unrestrained happiness woke the rest of the team up, startling Rico to the extent that he fell out of his bunk and landed on his face with a painful sounding _thud_, even making the hardened Skipper cringe. Mind, the color he had seen wasn't the most exciting, as most of the base's insides were made of gray, concrete wall, but he couldn't have cared less.

In fact, he had been rather optimistic ever since the accident, as he was no longer haunted by happy demonic unicorns that no one else could see. He explained to the others that when his eyes were hit by the intense light, the Lunacorns had gnashed their fangs and emitted bloodcurdling screams as the brightness burned them alive, which in turn had caused Private to scream in horror at the terrible sight. Rico had sounded exceptionally impressed as Private recounted what he saw, and applauded enthusiastically when Private finished speaking. Underneath the sound of clapping, Private could have sworn he heard Kowalski mumble, "Well, that's _one_ down", and could practically feel the glare Skipper fixed onto the penguin in response.

Private couldn't help but feel a bit guilty afterward, feeling that if he had been more careful when entering the lab and hadn't gotten hurt, then maybe Skipper and Kowalski could have come to some sort of compromise, and they'd all still be on good terms. In a way, Private had been grateful for the sanctuary of blindness; with the cold distance and repressed anger he heard in their increasingly rare interactions, he was glad he couldn't see them at it; listening had been enough to create uncomfortable visuals anyway.

He assured himself that everything would soon be okay and go back to normal, holding strong to the confident mantra his parents passed down to him when he was little: no matter how long it took, things had a tendency to work out for the better where good penguins were involved. If anyone asked, Private would be the first to say that Skipper and Kowalski had strong hearts in the right places, even if it wasn't clearly evident at times.

Things would work out in the end, he knew they would.

Right now though, he was eager to step outside into the light, to see the outside world with a whole new appreciation, but Kowalski wanted to be absolutely sure that there were no lasting injuries that could mar his vision in the future.

"I know you're excited," Kowalski sympathized, smiling slightly at how Private bounced as he walked behind him. "But you're going to have to stay still so I can properly inspect your eyes. The examination will only take a few minutes so—"

Private's wing suddenly shot out to grab Kowalski's fin, halting him in his tracks. The startled scientist looked at Private with a puzzled frown.

"Uh, Private? Why did you-?"

Private looked glumly at Kowalski, and then turned his gaze to the left to indicate where they were.

They were standing in front of the lab. Private had stopped Kowalski when his flipper had automatically stretched out and grasped the door handle. By the look of confusion and dismay weighing on Kowalski's features, the move had been subconscious and unintentional.

"You should probably let go," Private recommended, though he felt guilty in doing so. "In case Skippah sees."

Kowalski's grip slowly loosened, seeming to stroke the cool metal as his fin slowly withdrew and dropped to his side, swinging shortly like a dead weight instead of an arm. Looking at his home-within-a-home with terrible longing, Kowalski rested his head on the lab door.

"I need the tools inside," he said quietly.

Private believed he would have come up with a solution to this dilemma if his mind hadn't gone blank upon seeing the depth of Kowalski's despair.

"You don't need them," he finally heard himself say. He immediately wanted to slap himself, disgusted by how lame that sounded.

Sure enough, Kowalski snorted and shook his head, removing himself from the door's surface.

"I can't make a solid conclusion by the naked eye alone, Private."

The young penguin paused, considering this intriguing information.

"…So we need to make tiny clothes for your eyeballs?" Private inquired, brows furrowed in confusion. "How does that work?"

Kowalski slapped his forehead, his eyes closed tightly.

"Private, for the love of…" he muttered faintly.

"I have a hat that went through the washer too many times," Private continued, completely oblivious to Kowalski's reaction. "As well as the mittens Mum made for me when I was a hatchling. Maybe those will help."

Kowalski sighed wearily (though the small smile that appeared was fond) and gestured to the penguin to follow him to the game table. Private took a seat while Kowalski walked over to a section of the wall and knocked on its surface, causing a keyboard to pop out. The youth watched absently as the scientist typed in the password to gain access to the penguins storing unit, a small room that had been constructed to hold the files of past missions and whatever Rico couldn't make room for in his stomach (so the room was mostly filled with files). Once the disguised door gave way and admitted Kowalski, Private turned away and gazed at his fin, moving it far and close to his face. His flipper didn't become blurred or distorted at whatever distance he held it; by this small test alone, it seemed his vision had been restored. He could only hope Kowalski agreed.

"No go in the gorilla habitat. How is it on your end, Rico?"

"Pssh nada," Rico's voice crackled from the walkie-talkie held close to Skipper's ear.

"Right…," Skipper considered slowly, trying to think of another tactic. It had been Skipper and Rico's turn that late morning to patrol the zoo, a daily ritual that was performed rain or shine to make sure nothing was amiss amongst their fellow neighbors. When the penguin teammates had set out, however, there weren't any neighbors to speak of; the habitats were empty. It was all Skipper could do to keep his paranoia in check, but his mind was already filled with ideas of a tyrannosaurus rex having traveled in time to try future delicacies, namely zoo animals sautéed with a maple syrup coating. His second guess was that they were taken in the night and filled with helium to become the new floats for the Thanksgiving parade. Without any proof or evidence to support his theories though, Skipper remained in his unique version of level-headedness.

"Go to the reptile house and look around," Skipper finally ordered. "Interrogate anyone you find. _Without_ the use of dynamite, if you please," he was quick to add.

"Pssh, aww," Rico groaned in disappointment.

"I'll check the aquarium section in the meantime. Once you complete your search, return to the base. I'll meet you there."

"Pssh, okay."

"Oh, and Rico?"

"Pssh, yeah?

"Are those sound effects really necessary?"

"Pssssssssssssssshhhhhhhhhh…..Yup," Rico replied.

Skipper shook his head gravely.

"Rico, I'm disappointed that you're not taking this more seriously…I mean, where's the variety, man? "Pssh" is so 1985; what about 'cchhhik', or the 'kkksssttt' walkie-talkie sound?" Skipper stated, sounding out each noise as he made mention of them.

"Kkksssttt?" questioned Rico.

"Don't tell me you've never heard of 'kkksssttt? It's a classic!" Skipper said in astonishment.

" How 'bout 'Wuooosshhh'?" asked Rico.

"No; 'wuooosshhh' is more like the 'driving under a tunnel, you're breaking up' excuse," Skipper lectured. "And even that's more like a 'sckisht'"

"Scrishte?"

"No, it's 'sckisht'; if there's spit flying out of your mouth then you know you're doing it right."

"Scietcesst…"

"Sckisht."

"Skisst."

"Sckisht."

"Skisst."

"Sckisht."

"Sckiss."

"I should be seeing that spit from the moon, Rico," Skipper encouraged. "It's 'sckisht'."

"Schest."

"Sckisht."

"Uhhhh…."

"Oh, now you're not even trying!" Skipper reprimanded.

Someone coughed pointedly behind him. Skipper immediately turned to find himself under the baffled scrutiny of Maurice, an aye-aye and Julien's reluctant right-hand man. He was a short, chubby creature that was mostly a grey color with the exception of a white, fang-shaped section of fur on his chest that extended from his neck to his midsection. A small, glass blender was tucked securely under his arm; no doubt he was on an errand for the king. Sometimes Skipper really pitied the guy; Maurice was grounded, patient, aware, insightful, intelligent, and helpful when others needed him. In other words, he was everything Julien wasn't. The leader had trouble figuring out why Maurice worked under someone who was less competent than he was.

The situation reminded him of a line chart Kowalski made months ago, when they were trying to figure out why Maurice was supposedly planning to get rid of Julien:

_"This red line shows the frustration level of a really smart person forced to take orders from some dunder-brained boob. As you can see the frustration just keeps rising and rising and rising. I mean, why don't they put the smart guy in charge, huh? IT DOESN"T MAKE ANY SENSE! SOMETHING HAS GOT TO GIVE, PEOPLE! AM I THE ONLY ONE SEEING THIS?"_

Skipper couldn't imagine what it was like to be in such a position, but boy, did he feel sorry for the poor sap that got stuck in _that _job. The only reason he could imagine Maurice or anyone else like that sticking around was out of some twisted sense of loyalty or friendship.

"Uhh, your walkie-talkie is…dripping," Maurice said awkwardly, snapping Skipper back to the present. Skipper stared at his spit-soaked device, blinking in dumb disbelief as drops of drool fell steadily from its body. As he observed the damage, Skipper recomposed himself from his embarrassment and eased back into his authoritative, calm and confident persona.

"That's because I want the truth, and I want you to spit it out! By this much!" he ordered, indicating the walkie-talkie's melting spit coat.

"Eh, no thanks," Maurice said, recoiling slightly. "I've got to get back to the souvenir shop to make Joey his smoothie."

"Joey? As in kangaroo Joey?" Skipper questioned.

"Yeah," Maurice said uncertainly. "I've already made one for King Julien, Mort, Marlene and Manson, so I decided to bring the blender back with me to save myself from future trips," Maurice nodded to the blender he was holding.

"So that's where everyone is." Skipper confirmed. "Inside the zoovenir."

"Pretty much," Maurice shrugged mildly.

"And you're making them smoothies because…?"

Skipper's suspicions immediately rose to the warning zone on his paranoia meter when Maurice looked at him apologetically.

"Sorry Skipper," Maurice sighed. "King Julien ordered me not to tell you anything."

"Why not?" Skipper folded his wings.

"Julien told me not to answer that either," Maurice said, tentatively rubbing the back of his head.

Skipper's frown deepened.

"Look, don't worry about it," Maurice assured. "Everyone is kind of, sort of safe…maybe."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Skipper demanded, his eyes bulging.

"I-I've got to go," Maurice warily backed up a few steps. "I'm sure I'll see you soon Skipper."

It took all of Skipper's willpower to restrain himself from chasing after the aye-aye after the latter began to walk quickly away. He was going to need backup up on this one.

Upon returning to headquarters, Skipper quickly had his team assemble inside the base, pacing back and forth before them as his adrenaline rose in anticipation of the task to come. Private and Rico stood at attention, watching Skipper's progress with badly-disguised curiosity. (At least he _thought _Private was looking at him; he was wearing sunglasses for some reason. He'd have to ask about that later.)

Out of the corner of his eye, Skipper saw that Kowalski's eyes were focused on the floor on his right side, his brows stationed in an expression of bitter resentment.

Seeing this made Skipper's shoulders tighten in discomfort as a sudden pang hit his stomach. He knew that banning Kowalski from the lab would create a tense rift between himself and his soldier, but knowing what was to come didn't prepare him when it actually happened.

Any conversations—scratch that-any _sentences_ that were exchanged between the two had only been out of necessity (though "Pass the salt" could be an exception), and even then the most words that a sentence had contained so far was seven words: "I'm on fire! Get it off Minion!"

No, wait…That was that weird, light-bulb headed alien what's-his-name….Megamind, who had started his own educational television program in September, one of many attempts to prove he had turned over a new leaf. Skipper didn't buy it for a second, but Kowalski practically worshipped the guy now, usually smiling or laughing for a half-hour straight as he watched his hero invent and set himself on fire with limitless admiration.

But even the show failed to cheer him up nowadays, though he certainly watched more television now that he was banned from the lab. He tried to avoid eye contact with Skipper any way he could, usually by tending to Private or drawing ideas for a new invention. He ended up going through six notepads in three days, each piece of paper depicting a new creation, front and back. When Skipper curiously peered over Kowalski's shoulder to see what he was working on, Kowalski had jumped in his seat and immediately pressed the pad to his chest to hide the pictures.

"They're just ideas; I'm not inventing anything," he had responded defensively.

That's what it was. That was the seven word sentence.

On his own part, Skipper's anger began to ebb, but it didn't vanish. He was still upset that his teammates had been harmed by the inventions, and he needed to be assured that Kowalski valued the penguins more than his love of science. If there was a laser pointing at Private, Rico, and some invention like an earwax cleaner, Skipper didn't want to see Kowalski diving forward to protect the earwax cleaner. If Kowalski was above a shark tank and his shrink ray dropped to the bottom, he had better not go in after it.

He needed to see where his priorities lied, and his frustration reminded Kowalski that he'd better figure it out pronto. Until then, he didn't care (too much) that Kowalski was mad at him; all he wanted was for the scientist to earn his trust back. Perhaps this mission would be just the thing to help them both.

"Men, we are about to take on the most horrible, terrifying, death-defying, gut flying mission of our entire lives, and its. right. _here_," Skipper said in a dramatic undertone, stopping his frantic pacing to point directly at the ground.

_That _had gotten their attention. Even Kowalski couldn't help but let his eyes drift toward his leader, breaking his unspoken no-eye-contact rule.

"Wait… you mean right here… now?" Private asked with widened eyes.

"Yes," Skipper responded firmly.

There was a moment of tense silence. Rico and Private exchanged a quick glance with each other, and then emitted high-pitched, panicked screams.

"Take cover!" Private shouted, running around frantically before finally diving under the table. Rico retrieved a crossbow from his mouth and pointed it every which way, his movements nervous and erratic.

Kowalski, who had remained where he was as he watched Private and Rico reactions, turned to Skipper with a confounded look, as if to silently ask if he should panic too. Skipper shook his head in response and addressed the other two penguins in loud exasperation.

"Not _here_ here. In the zoovenier shop!"

Rico turned to Skipper in surprise, accidently firing an arrow at the ceiling. Embarrassed, he laughed feebly and hid the weapon behind his back. Meanwhile, Private cautiously crawled out from beneath the table, looking toward his leader in confusion.

"What are they all doing there?" he asked.

"I was getting to that," Skipper said with a slight smirk as Rico and Private bashfully returned to stand in front of him. "Now, based on the evidence I came up with in my brain, Rodger the alligator has finally gone carnivore, and has promised Maurice to spare his life if he fattens up everyone with delicious fruit smoothies.

"Fruit smoothies?" Kowalski blurted out in skeptic bewilderment.

" Have you ever tried Banana Brain or Strawberry Spleen, Kowalski?" Skipper asked, placing his flippers on his hips.

"Uh," Kowalski began, his expression one of uncertain disgust. "Just banana and strawberry, sans the brain and spleen."

"Well, you should ask Manfredi and Johnson for their opinion," Skipper started easily before darkly adding, "Oh wait, you can't, because they had to have their tongues removed after drinking Kiwi Kidney and Entawak Esophagus!

" Yummy," Rico commented.

"So, we infiltrate the zoovenir, take out Rodger, burn the carcasses and bury the remaining bones at sea. Any questions?"

Skipper raised his own flipper in the air.

"I have one. What's with the shades, Private?"

"Oh!" Private said in surprise as he began to smile widely. "I mean uh…Skippah, my main man; word up and uh, all that jazz," he said in a deeper voice, gesturing his wings like a rapper.

Skipper's face must have had the most dumbfounded look in the universe, because Private snorted in amusement and succumbed to a fit of laughter.

"Sorry Skippah; couldn't resist," Private managed as his laughter calmed down and he adjusted his glasses. "I just feel so cool with these on."

"Well, confidence is important in this line of work…Never do that again," Skipper ordered sternly, reaching out to take the sunglasses away.

"Wait Skippah!" Private exclaimed, putting his arms up in defense. "I can't take them off. Doctor's orders."

"Hmm…Taking orders that are beneficial to your health? I don't like it," Skipper said distrustfully. "Especially if they're from those needle-yielding maniacs. Who is this doctor, Private?"

"K'walski of course," Private said cheerfully.

"Mmpff!"

Skipper looked toward Kowalski, whose eyes had just jammed shut with shoulders raised to their highest extent. It looked like he was bracing himself for another bout of reprimands and shouting, which caused Skipper to frown in a mixture of annoyance and guilt.

"He didn't go in the lab!"

Skipper snapped his head back to Private, who now looked exceptionally worried.

"He just took these glasses and some others things from the storage room to get a better look at my eyes; that's it. He's kept his promise," he said pleadingly, begging the leader to believe him.

Surprised by Private's plea, Skipper looked to Rico, who fidgeted anxiously but nodded rapidly in Kowalski's defense. There was no need for it really; Skipper knew Kowalski had respected his orders. Not being as science savvy as the second-in-command, he had gone into the lab and placed a bucket of apple cider on a shelf above the door, connecting the bucket handle and door handle with a thin piece of string. If Kowalski had gone in, the cider would have spilled onto him and make the white of his feathers a subtle brown, so he couldn't lie and say he was soaking wet from a swim. When you got right down to it, a bucket of apple cider was really the best security ever created. Skipper would know, as he was the one who created it.

Now he studied Kowalski with the utmost attention, observing his frightened expression and the lack of brown on his feathers. Allowing a tiny smile of pride for his soldier appear on his face, Skipper became serious-looking and rubbed his fin under his beak, pretending to think and sound doubtful.

"I don't know…What do you think Kowalski?"

Kowalski's eyes popped open, his shoulders slumping as he addressed the leader uncertainly.

"Skipper?"

"Final diagnosis," Skipper clarified, cocking his head in Private's direction.

Kowalski blinked rapidly in surprise.

"I…Oh! I mean um…" he said with a quick shake of his head, looking as if he was trying to snap out of his astonishment to assemble his thoughts. "He seems to have made a full recovery…but since he's been down here for the past few days, there's a chance his eyes aren't strong enough yet to adjust to the radiation emitted from the sun. The glasses are merely a precaution. He would probably be fine without them, but better safe and sorry. I mean uh, better safe _than_ sorry. Better safe than…sorry," he finished guiltily, looking directly into Skipper's eyes as he said it.

Skipper gave him a small smile of sympathy before sternly addressing Private.

"You heard the man, Private. Keep those sunglasses on no matter what!"

"Aye aye Skippah!" Private saluted, trying to keep the happiness in his voice quelled by seriousness. Rico saluted Skipper too, beaming with manic energy in his eyes.

"Good work, Kowalski," Skipper nodded toward his lieutenant, grinning as Kowalski's eyes widened in amazement.

"…Thank you, Skipper," he said, a weak smile of relief and gratitude on his face. It disappeared though as he gave a soundless sigh, looking solemn once again.

"But it's my fault that he needs to wear them in the first—"

Kowalski paused, looking down at the floor and lifting his foot. For a moment, Skipper thought his remorse had rendered him speechless, and was about to tell him to not be so hard on himself until he too looked down at the floor, baffled that his feet suddenly felt wet…

"Um, Skippah?" Private asked uneasily, moving his feet up and down so that the floor seemed to ripple with—

"Not again!" Kowalski groaned in exasperation, rushing toward a specific section of the wall behind them. After it had been cracked by the flying lab door and solar broom a week ago, water had been steadily leaking into the base. Although it was removed and they had done their best to patch the wall up without using any resources from the lab, the damage only became worse. Now the water was flowing into their headquarters instead of trickling. Kowalski quickly tried to readjust their recent water plug—a chewed up piece of gum-to cover the new openings that was letting the water in.

"This is so _stupid_," Skipper heard Kowalski mutter angrily, no doubt frustrated that he couldn't make something that he thought would fix the wall in seconds.

"Kowalski, report," Skipper ordered in an effort to distract Kowalski from his irritation.

"It's uh—"

Kowalski was cut short by an ominous groaning sound emitted from the wall.

"Not happy," Kowalski finished.

With a resounding _pop, _the gum flew out of the hole, causing a jet of water to hit Kowalski directly in the face.

"Ahh! Pleay bpsshh!" he sputtered and spit as he groped blindly for the opening, the water continuing to burst forth as its pressure built. Before the team could move in to help, Kowalski promptly changed tactics, turning around and pressing the back of his body against the hole. The water rupture came to an abrupt stop, leaving a panting and soaking wet Kowalski in its wake.

"We're going to need more gum…Or a tarp," he said bluntly.

"Rico?" Skipper inquired.

Rico nodded eagerly and coughed up four sticks of gum, handing one to Skipper and Private before running over to give one to Kowalski. All four of them popped the gum into their mouths and chewed rapidly.

"Oooh; apple cinnamon," Skipper said in approval as a burst of flavor coated his tongue. "Nice one, Rico."

After a full minute of non-stop chewing, the penguins removed the gum from their mouths and combined the gooey wads into a single, drooling mass. Rico, who was not as easily disgusted as the others, was given the honor of plugging the hole the moment Kowalski removed himself from the wall.

"Ta-da!" Rico declared proudly when the the penguins saw (to their immense relief) that the green and brown speckled clump was holding the water back.

"Okay," Skipper said with a thin sigh. "That should do it."

"It won't hold forever Skipper. I'm _really_ going to have to fix that," Kowalski said worriedly, sounding more like his old-self again.

"Will it hold long enough to complete the mission?" Skipper asked.

"At least for one day, seven hours, twenty minutes and thirty seconds," Kowalski said, cautiously poking the thick wad of gum before turning back to Skipper.

"Then we go ahead as planned," Skipper decided. "What's our strategy boys?"

"Get into the souvenir shop," began Private.

"Boom! Kapow! Kapow!" Rico exclaimed, punching an invisible opponent as he did so.

"Burn the carcasses and bury the bones-wait, what!" Kowalski said aghast, the information having finally registered in his distracted mind.

"Bury the bones at sea," Skipper finished with a determined smile.

"We're ready. Let's move out men!"

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**A/N: **

"_**Homework! Oh, homework!**_

_**I hate you! You stink! **_

_**I wish I could wash you **_

_**Away in the sink." **_

_**-excerpt from "Homework! Oh, Homework" by Jack Prelutsky **_

__**My life in a nutshell during this past month, and it hasn't improved with finals being around the bend. Once the school year ends, updates should be more frequent unless I get hit with a particularly bad case of writer's block. Hopefully knowing where the story is headed will decrease the chances of that happening. **

**Kowalski's line chart and hilarious rant is from the episode "Whispers and Coups". **

**Regarding the mention of Megamind and Minion…If the story doesn't change dramatically from what I have planned, they do play an indirect part in this tale, and one of them may even show up in person toward the end. I wouldn't really classify the story as a crossover though, as it doesn't revolve around those two and their appearances will be infrequent. Since both POM and Megamind are Dreamworks property, I don't think it would be too much of a stretch if they existed in the same world. **

**An Entawak is a brownish-yellow fruit native to Borneo and southern Sumatra. ( Skipper learned about it from Kowalski; even when he tries to tune out the long-winded, scientific explanations, he can't help but learn something new from Kowalski on occasion.) **

**I know it seems Skipper and Kowalski are beginning to make amends, but this is the last chapter for a long while where there will be any semblance of friendship between them. The next chapter will be one involving a game of truth or dare. **

**Thanks for your patience guys; it's greatly appreciated. **

**I don't own POM or Megamind. Reviews and helpful criticism are welcome; flames are not. **


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